


Apples

by madlysanecatlady



Series: The Nice and Accurate Ineffable Husbands Compendium [12]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, ineffable husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 07:57:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlysanecatlady/pseuds/madlysanecatlady
Summary: Apples are forbidden. Aziraphale doesn't care about that anymore. He's going to eat one, and maybe get a taste of a different forbidden fruit while he's at it.





	Apples

Aziraphale had never eaten an apple. Apples were The Fruit That Caused All That Trouble so many years ago. Eating them had been Forbidden then; he didn’t see how that would be any different now just because humans happened to be shunted from the Garden. Humans could do what they liked, but Aziraphale was no human. No self-respecting angel would allow themselves to stoop so low as to eat the One Single Fruit the Almighty had Forbidden. To quote a certain demon, that would go down about as well as a lead balloon.

He wondered if Crowley had ever eaten an apple. He must have; after all, disobedience for the sake of it was very much his area of expertise. That was neither here nor there this evening of course, after all that had happened. Crowley was no longer, well, he was still _technically_ a demon, and yes, physiologically speaking Aziraphale was still an angel, but they were Different now. They didn’t have sides to stick to, or arbitrary rules to follow. They had their own side. They made their own rules. They could do whatever they wanted now. And the first item on that list of things to do was finally try this damned piece of fruit that was apparently worth risking the Almighty’s wrath for a simple taste.

And so it was that Aziraphale arrived at the bookshop with a flat, square box that warmed his hands where the just-from-the-oven pie tin sat at precisely the same moment Crowley did. Aziraphale felt his entire face alight with a smile he knew would only ever be possible in Crowley’s presence. It was a smile he had mostly been able to keep at bay, under careful lock and key, for the better part of 6000 years, but that had escaped a few times during periods of rather heightened duress. He remembered with a good deal of embarrassment how ridiculously and unabashedly _overjoyed_ he had been to hear Crowley’s voice behind him in the Bastille during that spot of difficulty during the French Revolution – and he could lie to himself no longer: it was not simply out of happiness to be getting out of a nasty bit of recorporation paperwork. He was happy to see Crowley, and this smile was the true manifestation of that; it felt incredible to finally set it free.

‘Well, somebody looks happy,’ Crowley drawled, leaning against the doorframe and waiting to be let in as he often did. ‘What’ve you got in that box that’s making your face light up like an excited grandmother’s Christmas tree?’

‘The pie’s not got me all happy, well, I am pleased about it of course, but I’m smiling because I’m happy to see _you_ , you silly demon,’ Aziraphale babbled a little, realising he was actually quite nervous about what he was about to suggest they do. It was ridiculous, really, to be so nervous about such a stupid thing as eating an apple after everything that had just happened, that he had just done, in order to save the world, and coincidentally, the apples in it. But still, nerves were hardly logical – he’d learned that the hard way several centuries ago when he had tried to logically explain to himself why it was so ridiculous for him to be nervous to meet Oscar Wilde before he nervously ducked away to vomit profusely in an alleyway. At least the rats had been well-fed that day.

Crowley looked shocked and then rather pleased with himself. He grinned. ‘Careful angel, people might start to get the wrong idea. They might start to think you _like_ me.’

‘Well, if they thought that, they’d certainly get the right idea now, wouldn’t they?’ Aziraphale unlocked the door and ushered Crowley inside before him, puzzling at the mixture of surprise and confusion on the demon’s very expressive face. ‘Crowley,’ he held the demon back from heading to their usual place in the back room with the mere quiet utterance of his name. Aziraphale couldn’t quite place when he had realised he had this rather awesome power to hold the demon by his side with a mere word or look, but he knew he had somewhat abused it for frivolities over the years. Now would be the beginning of a new era – one where he would instead only say Crowley’s name like that, with so much affection and just a _tinge_ of desperation when it absolutely counted, when he absolutely needed to. This was one such time. ‘You _do_ know how I feel about you, don’t you?’

He saw Crowley give a hard swallow before turning to look at him, those infernal sunglasses blocking Aziraphale’s view of his beautiful, expressive eyes. Aziraphale tutted and put the pie aside on top of a nearby stack of books, freeing his hands to reach out and pull the glasses gently from Crowley’s face. He found dilated pupils staring back at him from widened eyes. He smiled.

‘Crowley, I disobeyed Heaven, which you know was always my biggest fear, returned to earth sans corporation and _possessed_ people in order to help save this world for you,’ he reminded the demon gently. ‘I didn’t do it because I would miss these books, either – although I would, don’t misunderstand, but that’s _not the point_ , oh dear I appear to be babbling – I did it because of you.’

Crowley’s mouth opened a little in lax surprise. He regained control after a few useless attempts at jaw movement and smiled. ‘Angel, you really don’t know how it feels to hear that.’

‘Well, I do, don’t I?’ Aziraphale picked up the pie again and led the way to the back room and up the stairs to the small flat above the shop. He deposited the pie on the dining table before turning to Crowley seriously. ‘I’ve felt your love for thousands of years, haven’t I? You’ve always loved me so freely. I was doing you quite the disservice in quashing my own.’

‘Well, your bosses checked in a lot more than mine,’ Crowley shrugged. ‘They’d have noticed something amiss.’

‘But now I don’t have to be careful,’ Aziraphale smiled. ‘I can do whatever I bloody well please, can’t I? And I’ve got a few indulgences I’d quite like to have this evening, provided you’re amenable. Starting, of course, with _dessert_.’

‘Angel, I’ve followed you onto consecrated ground, I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go,’ Crowley rolled his eyes. He eyed the box on the table curiously. ‘So what’s with the pie? Celebration piece?’

‘More symbolic, really,’ the angel flipped open the lid of the box, letting the smell of freshly baked apples, nutmeg, and cinnamon waft into the air around them.

‘Apples?’ Crowley eyed the label on the box carefully. He shrugged. ‘I’ve never had an apple before. Never really saw the appeal – the Almighty threw a hell of a fit last time I was around someone who ate one. Have you?’

‘Not once,’ Aziraphale shook his head, gulping down his nerves. ‘It was really the One Rule the Almighty gave in the Garden, it felt _wrong_ to break it, even after everything. But now, well, Our Side, and all that. Who cares about the rules? I’m going to eat this apple pie.’

‘Well it smells nice,’ Crowley plopped down into a chair, manifesting a pair of plates, forks, and a serving spatula. ‘Let’s give it a go. I’m sure you’ve got other things to try after this.’

‘I’m sure I’ll think of something once I’ve gotten the first disobedience out of the way. I’m assuming it comes better with practise.’

Crowley shrugged, smiling down at the slice of pie. ‘Just do what you want to do, angel. Indulgence in personal desires is a bit of a no-no Upstairs, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose I’ll get better at that, too,’ Aziraphale served out generous pieces of the pie. He picked up his fork and hesitated, looking up at Crowley. He let out a nervous chuckle. ‘How silly to be so hung up on a fruit.’

‘This is a big step for you, angel,’ Crowley smiled and took a bite. ‘This isn’t half bad. S’nice. It’s sweet and spicy. Kind of like us, when you think about it.’

Aziraphale and took a tentative bite, sighing in contentment with the flavour hit him. ‘Oh my _goodness_ ,’ he didn’t make a habit of speaking with his mouth full, but this was a rare occasion for exception. ‘This is _phenomenal_.’

Crowley laughed. ‘You say that about every confection I’ve ever seen you eat, angel.’

‘No but this is… oh my it’s no wonder the Almighty forbade it. This taste is euphoric,’ Aziraphale took another greed bite.

‘I think it was more the bit about learning the difference between Right and Wrong, actually,’ Crowley took another bite, but the taste was largely lost on him as he admired the way the angel was enjoying it. ‘Although, I don’t think we needed the apples for that, honestly. Else we wouldn’t be here discussing it.’

‘You know, I think you might be right,’ Aziraphale practically inhaled the rest of his slice. ‘I don’t feel any different in terms of morality. I do know that I’ve been ridiculously denying myself this incredible treat for so long for absolutely nothing.’

Crowley noticed the angel eyeing his piece and snorted, taking a final large bite from the plate before sliding it over. ‘Savouring apples is a good look on you, angel,’ he hadn’t meant for his voice to come out dripping in sickly sweetness and affection, but he found it doing so without his consent. He shrugged to himself. If the smile on the angel’s face was any indicator, he didn’t mind Crowley’s sappiness in the slightest.

In fact, it appeared to be the exact opposite. His cheeks went pink and he looked rather pleased with himself. It was the angel’s eyes that really caught Crowley’s attention; they were smouldering in a way the demon had never seen before. He liked it. A good deal. He licked his lips, overcome with a fizzling nervous energy, wondering what it meant.

Aziraphale took his final bite and swallowed, looking pensive. He miracled the dishes away, appearing to pay them no mind at all. He looked up at Crowley, his expression inscrutable but for that smoulder that remained in his light eyes. ‘Well, now that’s done… perhaps there’s more disobedience to get on with.’

Crowley gulped, suddenly very nervous indeed. ‘What did you have in mind?’

‘Well, you said disobedience came from following one’s desires, despite their having been forbidden to do so,’ Aziraphale got slowly to his feet. He walked slowly over to Crowley, smiling at nervous smile spreading across Crowley’s face. He reached out and ran his fingers through Crowley’s soft feathery hair. ‘You know… I _have_ always really wanted to, you know… watch the _Golden Girls_.’

Crowley could not catch his face before it noticeably fell into a disappointed frown. He had honestly been expecting, well, the way Aziraphale was looking at him, the way he was _acting_ , _well_ …

Aziraphale burst into laughter, his eyes falling soft for a moment before returning to their smoulder. ‘The look on your face, dear.’ He leaned over, pressing a short, chaste kiss to Crowley’s lips. ‘Of _course_ I’m not talking about _television_.’

‘You had me worried, angel, I’ll admit it,’ Crowley reached out, grabbing the angel by his hips and tugging him over, smirking when a comfortable weight settled onto his thighs as Aziraphale sat in his lap. His lips tingled as he spoke. Chaste or no, that kiss had left a sizzling energy that prickled and popped the more he looked at Aziraphale. He leaned in, kissing him again, this time leaving chasteness behind and slipped his tongue into the angel’s mouth, humming happily when he was allowed entry.

Aziraphale slid closer, twisting almost painfully to throw his arms around Crowley’s neck. Crowley smirked against his lips, one hand going to rest at the small of the angel’s back, the other venturing up to fist in golden curls, feeling their softness flow through his fingers.

The angel pulled away, his breathing ragged. ‘No wonder they don’t want us fraternising. This is absolute magic, dear.’

‘You’re the real forbidden fruit, if you ask me,’ Crowley kissed his nose next. ‘And I don’t care how many gardens it gets me kicked out of, I’m having my taste.’

‘You can have more than a taste,’ Aziraphale readjusted, straddling Crowley instead, to kiss him again, somehow more insistently than he had already done before.

Crowley groaned into his mouth at the feelings and sensations this stirred within him, something he had never felt so fiercely before, something he had only felt towards this angel in his arms. He was a creature of excess and temptation, but this angel was more than he had ever dreamed, this feeling was the most tempting and all-consuming one he had ever felt erupting in his chest and spreading out throughout his body, licking his flesh from within like searing flames.

Aziraphale’s hands moved downward, tracing the backs of Crowley’s shoulders, trailing around and down a firm chest and stomach, before slipping under his obscenely tight shirt, feeling out the ticklish trail of hairs peeking out from beneath his ridiculously low-cut trousers. His fingers trailed gently upwards, running through the soft hairs that covered Crowley’s chest. He sighed into the kiss, the sound being swallowed up by the demon’s soft moan.

Crowley pulled away, pupils blown so wide they swallowed up the yellow irises, cheeks flushed, and breathing so ragged it was coming in pants. ‘Angel, you’re incredible.’

‘I could say the same to you, dear,’ Aziraphale smiled, reaching up to pull at his tie, undoing the bow and popping open the top buttons of his shirt. ‘Oh, that’s much better. It’s getting rather warm in here, isn’t it?’

‘That’s all you, angel,’ Crowley licked his lips, eyeing the pop of collarbone Aziraphale had exposed hungrily. ‘Shall we reconvene, er, elsewhere? I think I’d like to get you out of those clothes entirely.’

‘Of course, dear,’ Aziraphale stood, taking Crowley’s hand in his. ‘Anywhere you want to go. As fast as you want to go. I’m done going so slowly. It’s time I catch up.’

Crowley allowed himself to his feet, capturing his angel’s lips again. ‘You’re the apple of my eye, angel. Forbidden or no, I’m devouring you tonight.’

Aziraphale pulled away to smile, his eyes shining with love and happiness. ‘I can hardly wait.’

 


End file.
